Study on the Benefit of Private Snogging
by SeeStar
Summary: So, just how did Fred and George find out about Bill and Fleur’s ‘Eeenglish lessons’? (Little one-shot. Characters: Bill, Fred and George Weasley with mentions of Fleur)


Okay, so this is another little viggie I wote while taking a bit of a break from writing my full-length story. I was reading OotP... and a bunny bit me.

It's basically the twins pestering Bill, and I don't think it's all that good, because I'm not all that sure I got the characterizations right. But how'm I going to get better if I only write what I'm comfortablewith,right:shrugs:

**_Study on the Benefit of Private Snogging_**

It was very near dinner hour. And, technically Fleur Delacoure and Bill Weasley had both finished their shifts ten minutes ago.

But Fleur was only just slipping out of the offices of Gringotts Bank, her pale cheeks glowing and her normally perfect hair somewhat mussed.

Bill watched her from his office door, smiling slightly. When a few of the Goblins started to stare at him, he ducked back into his office to gather his papers before they decided to start asking questions.

He turned and only just fought back the urge to jump. His little brother Fred… or George… had suddenly appeared in his office.

Fred and George loved using their newly legalized apparating skills to scare the life out of their mother. Apparently, she was getting boring.

"Hi, Fred…" he paused. "Or whoever you are. What are you doing here?"

"Fred," confirmed Fred absently, a sinister grin spreading over hid freckled face. "Who was that?"

Bill frowned, looking up from his search for his coat. It had gotten knocked under the desk. "Who was what?"

"That was Fleur. Fleur Delacour, from the Tri-wizard Tournament. She was in _your_ office," said Fred, sounding awed.

"No! It wasn't… she wasn't," Bill said quickly.

"Yes, it was. What were you two _doing_?" Fred plopped down into the chair opposite Bill's desk. "Come on, I won't tell anyone. Except George. And Ron. And Ginny… well, maybe not Ginny… don't want to traumatize the poor kid…." he said half thoughtfully, half mockingly, staring at his older brother all the while.

_Busted_, thought Bill grimly. A grown man shouldn't be embarrassed about his perfectly appropriate relationships, he tried to convince himself. But his family was not _normal_. There was no telling what kind of tortures they would inflict on both him _and_ Fleur. No. It was safer for her that he didn't tell his little brothers. He cared about her too much to inflict Fred and George on her.

He sighed. "She wants to learn how to speak better English and I'm helping her. She's teaching me French in return. I'm helping a co-worker. That's all." At least that was close to the truth.

"Sure," Fred said skeptically. "You're a very bad liar; you know that, right?" He grinned. "Can I have French lessons?"

Bill shot up, grabbed him by the arm and starting dragging him back towards the door. "Get out of here!"

"Why? You're not embarrassed, are you? I thought you were just teaching her Eng—hey, ow!"

Bill shut the door firmly behind him. He went to his desk and collapsed into a chair. After three minutes, when he didn't return, Bill thought maybe Fred'd decided to give it up… but dismissed that out of hand and prepared for the worst.

Four clear, loud knocks sounded from the door.

Bill dug his fingers into the edge of his chair. "Fred, I told you to go away."

"I'm not Fred," came a droll voice.

Of course. He should have known. "Close enough. What do you want?"

"Mum wants you to come over for dinner."

"You came all the way over here for that? You couldn't have just Owled me?"

"And miss a chance to annoy you, dearest older brother? I'm insulted," George said through the door. "Are you going to let me in, or am I going to have to complain to the Goblins that one of their employees is being rude to me?"

Bill got up and opened the door. The redhead standing outside looked identical to the one that had just been pestering him. Only he was wearing a different sweater. So it was George. Or Fred with George's sweater. Or maybe the other one had been George all along.

No, he decided finally, after looking at the boy closely. No… that was George. He was getting rusty.

George looked at him expectantly. "Are you coming over?"

"Fine… yes," Bill conceded.

"Will you bring your girlfriend?" George asked, grinning evilly.

Bill closed his eyes. Why had he left Egypt again? "George, just be quiet. She's _not_ my girlfriend"

"Well, will you? Mum'd love her. You've really done well for yourself, she's a piece of work, that one…"

"We'll talk about this. At dinner. You know I can make your lives miserable if you don't drop this," Bill growled, feeling himself steadily loosing patience with his brother's antics.

"Resorting to threats?" George rose an eyebrow. "I'm surprised at you. My cool, calm older brother. Utterly flapped. Over a Veela."

"Maybe we should let him date her, George." Fred popped up in the doorway. "He might jump off a cliff after her and then we'll be rid of him."

"Look, you two," Bill started, pointing a finger at them.

"'Ey, could ze two of you pozibly let me get t'ough?"

Fred jumped away from the door, turning in the same motion.

Fleur was standing in the doorway, tapping her foot and looking quite annoyed. "I forgot ze 'Anders file," she said smoothly. "I need it for zat report tomorrow."

Bill smiled despite himself and handed her the folder. "There you go."

"Z-s-thank you," she said haltingly, obviously quite proud of herself. She leaned up, kissed his forehead and, with a cool glance at Fred and George, swept out the door.

Bill couldn't move until after she'd gone out of sight among the crowd of customers. God, she was so… perfect. Maybe a bit of taunting from the terror twins was worth it.

Then he heard the twins muttering amongst themselves.

"We have to get rid of her."

"She's corrupting him."

"He's grinning like an idiot."

"Let's get him to Mum so that she can slap some sense into him."

Strangely enough though, they kept quiet throughout dinner, worrying their mother into thinking they were sick and retired to their room soon afterwards.

Maybe they did have a shred of decency in them, after all.

He kept repeating this to himself after he gotten home and had to clean the dungbomb stench out of his coat as Fleur laughed from the safety of her shield charm.

* * *

Smurf, her accent is a pain in the neck! 


End file.
